Refuse to Fall
by ZAFO
Summary: Prepare yourself, Jack Merridew. This is where the world ends.
1. Prologue

**Refuse to Fall**

By ZAFO

**A/N: **Hello everyone! This is my first Lord of the Flies fanfiction. Go easy on me. :)

* * *

–**Prologue-**

Ralph lies curled at the base of the tree trunk, cold and tired and utterly alone. His clothes are in a pitiful state of being, pathetic to the point where they may as well not exist at all. The misery of having to run and hide is taking a toll on him; but it is not the hunt that has shattered Ralph's hopes, or even the forced betrayal of Samneric. Rather, it is the reality that his rescue was just a dream, and a rather heartbreaking one at that.

Ralph sniffles, drawing his knees closer to himself. His ribs poke out harshly from beneath his dirty, tanned flesh, but he can no longer remember a time when it was any other way- back when his skin still smelled of soap and sunshine. He smiles bitterly, supposing he should be somewhat thankful for his narrow escape, then remembers that it is only temporary.

Days ago he had slipped and fallen down a steep embankment- injuring his ankle, knocking himself out, and getting stuck in a muddy ravine in the process. Two days have passed since then -the third one ending today- and he feels his body growing weak with hunger and thirst. As he sits and massages his twisted ankle, Ralph's tired mind replays the dream over and over again:

A savage.

A spear.

A fire.

A boat.

"_Jack's a stupid, stupid savage." _Ralph thinks. _"With a stupid, stupid, stupid spear. But...he would never be dumb enough to kill himself too." _

He pauses, swallowing hard.

"_There was no fire. There was no boat."_

The scent of decay.

"_There was nothing."_

The taste of blood.

"_Absolutely nothing!"_

The feeling of grief.

"_I want to go home..."_

_

* * *

_

"Jack."

He stiffens, ignoring the timid, pathetic little voice resonating from behind.

_Keep walking. _

"_Jack."_

The voice grows urgent, wrought with worry. There is undertone of barely-suppressed fear.

_Good._

"Jack, Jack _please-"_

He turns around: slowly, patiently. His voice is calm.

_You look so scared._

"Do you need something, Maurice?"

The air between them is stifling.

"...why are you doing this?"

And the question is so sudden; so simple. He is at a loss of what to say.

_Rewind._

"What?"

Maurice winces, stuttering nervously.

"I—I was just wondering. I mean, _why? _You're chief now, J-Jack. We're following_ you_. Ralph doesn't matter anymore...and it's been two whole days...we're all so tired...let's just go home and r-rest..."

Silence,  
_  
Shut up._

"Why don't you go talk to Roger?" Jack says smoothly. "I'm sure he'll be happy to take you."

The boy pales visibly, cringing at the name and the memory it brings.

"Wait. J-Jack-"

"-Roger!" he calls, and almost instantly his right-hand man is by his side.

_You are the worst._

"You called?"

"Yes. Go take Maurice home. _ Home_- you hear me?"

_But understand this:_

"My pleasure." replies Roger. His gaze is dark, unwavering. Maurice shivers.

"Let's go home then, Maurice."

"I..."

_We're all the same._

He slumps, somberly hanging his head down in defeat. Maurice's bangs have obscured his eyes- but even so Jack can tell that the tears are flowing. He walks off as Roger rests a hand on the small of Maurice's back, guiding him in the other direction. A small smile flits across his face.

_But the world is mine-_

Cries of pain echo deep from the depths of forest: groans and moans and half-choked pleas for mercy.

Jack looks to the horizon, where the sun sets once again.

_-and mine alone.  
_

_

* * *

_**A/N:** eh, so how is it so far? review? :D_  
_


	2. Almost

**Refuse to Fall**

By ZAFO

**A/N: ** I didn't expect people to actually take an interest in this story. What a pleasant surprise! I was hesitant to even post this up since I thought no one would read it, since the Lord of the Flies fandom on FF is way too small. I really want to create a community for it on livejournal, but I don't know if anyone would join or what I'd do. Blah. Anyway, thank you guys for reviewing! I hope I don't disappoint with this chapter! :)

* * *

–**Chapter One: **Almost**-**

"Maurice, you shouldn't**-"**

"-ever anger Jack like that. You know that he'll-"

-only call Roger on you, and everyone knows that-"

"-Roger can be even worse than Jack.."

Maurice is silent, listening solemnly to the twin's uncharacteristically subdued chatter echoing in and around his ears.

They do not have much to work with that night: dirty rags that had once served as shirts and saltwater held haphazardly in disintegrating coconut shells. Maurice winces, shifting ever-so-slightly away from Sam as he leans in to wipe the blood off his face. Eric is working at his arms and legs, gently applying pressure to relieve the now-weak flow of blood from his ugly, open wounds.

"Is anything broken?" Maurice whispers.

The twins say nothing for what seems like a millennium. His arm throbs.

"Don't worry, Maurice." Eric says quietly. "Everything-"

"-will be alright." Sam finishes.

Maurice gives a hoarse laugh.

"But everything hurts."

Shakily, he brings a hand to his leg.

"Here."

Then to his stomach.

"Here."

Then to his arm.

"Here."

And then to his heart.

"_Here..."_

His vision blurs with the onslaught of tears, but when he gives a hard swallow and blinks them away, Maurice sees at last that he is not alone. The twins are crying too. The twins are scared too.

Suddenly, Maurice remembers that they are younger than him, that they had slipped away from camp in the middle of the night to come look for him because they knew- they _knew_ that something had happened because Roger had come home with the same look on his face...

...the same look that he had worn when he killed Piggy.

_'Piggy.' _

His mind recoils from that memory- of blood and bone and endless sea.

_'I could be next.'_

Samneric are still crying.

_'They could be next.' _he realizes.

So Maurice utters but a single warning; the purple, finger-shaped bruises around his throat constricting painfully as he speaks.

"You two better get back soon."

And they stare at him, with the most heartbreaking look in their eyes, then settle on each side of his broken, bleeding body like it doesn't matter. Like he actually matters.

"You can't sleep here..." says Eric.

"...not alone." says Sam.

"_Because the beast might get you." _ they say together.

He closes his eyes. Then...

"...thank you." he whispers.

Maurice knows not of of why they are so kind to him. He is useless and dirty and maybe condemned, then he remembers that the Sam and Eric had been_ forced_ from Ralph's side.

Then he remembers that Ralph exists.

Then he remembers that hope exists.

_'Be safe...Ralph.' _

It is his last thought before he slips into darkness.

* * *

"Ugh..." groans Ralph, as he strains to stand.

It is morning now. Rays of sunlight peek out shyly from over the height of the embankment, enticing him to return from the world of the dead. The forest is silent and at peace, save only for the twitter of birds and his own small, frustrated grunts.

_'I need to get out of here.' _he thinks. _'I need to get moving.'_

Ralph's thin, gangly legs wobble as he takes the first few steps towards freedom. Tiny beads of sweat develop on his forehead as he struggles to cling onto various plant life around him for support. His progression is slow and painful.

Then...

"_Damn it!" _ he curses, falling flat on his face. The forest floor is cold and filthy. Angrily, Ralph wipes a splatter of mud from his cheek and props his body up with two sore, aching elbows. He shoots a steady, fixed glare towards his larger-than-life destination and wills himself to move once more.

He has to make it over the hill. He has to get out before he is cornered and killed.

So despite the raging protests from his screaming, twisted ankle, Ralph stumbles over to the wall of earth and looks up determinedly towards the rising sun.

_'It's not over.'_

Solid, odds and ends of rock jut out randomly from the slope of the embankment. Ralph's palm settles on one and his foot on another_. _Repeat. Soon, his stance is like that of spider, flat and unassuming and almost predatory.

Inside, however, Ralph is anything but: a scorned amalgamation of fire and morals and reasoning deemed utterly useless on this god-forsaken-island. The expression on his face is and feral and resolute as he makes his ascension to the top.

_'I won't lose here.' _he grits._ 'Not like this. Not to Jack.'_

His hand slips, and Ralph scrambles frantically to find something else to hold on to. Once steadied, he shuts his eyes and counts to ten. Ralph tries his hardest to block out the sounds of tumbling rock.

_'Breathe, Ralph, breathe. Remember to breathe...'_

It takes everything he has to keep from shaking like a leaf. Ralph cannot afford to make another mistake. He is too far up now, too far along. It would be devastating to both his spirit and his body if he fails.

He would breathe –one more time- then will himself to die if his fate was to fall and burst his head open like Piggy.

His bottom lip quivers at the memory, but Ralph is thankful that it is only that.

_'Don't think about it.'_

Grip.

Haul.

Step.

Grip.

_'It's not your fault.'_

Grip.

Haul.

Step.

Grip.

_'It didn't happen.'_

Grip.

Haul.

Step.

Grip.

_He's in a better place now.'_

Grip.

Haul.

Step.

Grip.

_'But he shouldn't have died...!'_

Ralph cries quietly as he continues to climb. No matter how much he tries to forgive himself, no matter how much he is sorry, sorry, _sorry _for teasing "_Sucks to your ass-mar!" _ without ever stopping to think of what it really did to the poor boy, Ralph cannot not make the guilt go away. Ralph cannot make the flashbacks go away.

_'I could have done something. I could have pushed him out of the way and...I...I could have-'_

_'– could have what?' _another voice sneers, distorted and dark. _'Gotten y**our** head bashed open instead? No thanks! Better you than him.'_

'O_f course.' _he thinks tearfully, somberly. _'Of course...'_

Before he knows it, Ralph has succeeded at last. He reaches the top of the embankment and pulls himself up, ribs and skin and ankle and all. Panting, he collapses near the edge of the ravine and gazes up at the open blue sky. Piggy has disappeared from his mindscape, but Simon takes his place instead. An even greater wave of shame washes over him. Whereas Piggy was just a ripple, Simon is an entire tsunami, crashing down and crushing what was left of his tired, broken heart.

_'Stop it.'_

Ralph can make out their faces in the clouds above. He likes to think that they are both in heaven, but that annoying, snide little voice in the back of his head speaks out once again:

_'Oh, what rubbish! What could you expect after this..? Death is just like sleeping, that's all!'_

_'At least you can dream if you sleep.' _he reasons.

The voice is quiet.

Ralph picks himself up only once the clouds have passed.

* * *

Samneric act like crutches for Maurice, propping up his beaten, battered body as he hops down the dirt path run flat by squealing pigs.

"Hey Maurice-"

"-are you doing-"

"-alright?"

He nods weakly, thankful for the support that the twins have given him. They are nearing the camp 'entrance' at last- nothing more than two piles of stones sitting opposite from each other on raised mounds of sand.

_'Funny Henry hasn't kicked it over yet.' _he thinks, a small smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

"What are you-"

"-thinking about-"

"-Maurice?"

He shakes his head.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Well-"

"-if you say so. Still, we have to-"

"-get you back into our hut-"

"-before everyone wakes up-

"-or else, they'll really-

"_-kill you."_

The trip stops cold. That voice is not theirs. It belongs to-

"_-Jack." _ Maurice whispers softly.

The redhead stands before the entrance, his arms crossed, in all his savage and his fearsome glory.

"Did you miss me?" he smirks. "Is that why you've come back...?"

Roger slinks to Jack's side, giving them an equally cold and condescending stare. Bill does the same. Countless littluns cower behind them, watching as the drama unfolds. Maurice can only hope that they are still too young to understand.

_'Henry, where are you...?'_

"Sam. Eric."

The twins perk up, knowing that the separation of their names was never good. Jack's voice is sickeningly sweet.

"Step away from Maurice, please."

The three are quiet.

_'No.'_

Nothing.

Jack's face warps into an expression unreadable as the twins hold onto Maurice even tighter.

"_Now, _please."

There is a sharp, metallic little sound as Jack unsheathes his jack knife, waving it causally about in the morning sun.

Maurice trembles.

"...you wouldn't."

"I would."

Samneric are frozen.

"I'm sorry!" he starts. _ "_I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I won't ever question you again! I'm-"

Maurice lets out a small, strangled gasp as the knife slices swiftly across his bare chest. The cut is shallow –_thankfully_- but blood streams out endlessly as if he were mortally wounded. The twins let him go with a horrified shriek, coming to the realization that they had practically held his body in place as Jack cut into him.

_Thud._

It happens in a matter of seconds.

Maurice falls backwards from the shock, and Jack stands over him, hands on his hips, the toothy grin that had once been so charismatic now looking absolutely animalistic. Maurice doesn't think that he's ever been so scared in his life.

"_Never again...?"_ Jack muses.

"Never again." he whispers.

"Good."

* * *

Ralph chuckles lightly, finding pleasant surprise in his amazingly easy journey.

Well, _"_easy" wasn't exactly the right word for it, but ever since Ralph had climbed out of the ravine he had been expecting an immediate ambush from Jack and the tribe that had never come. His four hour trek (limp, more like it) from forest to beach had been unexpectedly peaceful, to the point where it slightly unsettled him.

_'What's going on?'_

Did something happen back at camp? Back on the other side of the island? Or God forbid- did _Jack Merridew _actually give up on him?

He shakes his head. Whatever the reason, Ralph will not worry about it any longer. He will take any glimmer of quiet he can get. Never the less...

_'If they don't chase after me now now, they'll just chase after me later. So, I've got to-"  
_

Ralph stops, dead in his tracks.

The sky is even more vibrant than it had been that morning, clear of clouds and noisy birds. The waves produce a slow, melodious sound as they hit the shoreline. Tempered wind blows the salty scent of seawater towards his direction, and the fine, white sand under his feet sinks a little deeper as Ralph stands rigid and stares.

_'It can't be...'_

"_Simon...?" _he breathes.

The boy turns to look at him, his movements slow and graceful. His lithe, tanned body stands in stark contrast with the bright beach background.

"You..._you're alive?"_

Simon smiles.

_"Yes."_

(end chapter one)_  
_

* * *

**A/N: ***cough* I like hearing your opinions and criticisms. *cough*

Please review! :)


	3. Something Real

**Refuse to Fall**

By ZAFO

**A/N: **Hello there, readers! Thank you for the reviews last chapter, and I'm sorry for such a long wait.

My life as an intern now is very tedious— the amount of paperwork I've been given is really really disheartening, to say the least. *gloom*

* * *

–**Chapter Two: **Something Real**-**

The first thing Ralph does is run straight into Simon, throwing his arms about the boy's neck and joyfully knocking him down onto the wet shoreline. The touch of his rough, calloused fingers on on Simon's smooth, cool skin dissolves any and all of the unwanted doubt in his mind as they roll about together on the gritty white sand.

Ralph continues to hug the boy tighter and tighter as they come to an abrupt stop but seconds later...

_'He's real! He's real! He's real!' _Ralph shouts with jubilee, only inside of his head because he is too happy to form the words out loud. Ralph can feel fresh tears prickling the edge of his eyes '_He's real...'_

Simon pats his bare backside with a calm, quiet reassurance. Seawater licks the edges of their arms and legs, and despite the start of his close-to-hysteric sobbing, Ralph has never felt safer in his life...

"Simon..." he whispers. "Why are you still alive...?"

It's _'how,'_ he's meant to say, but Simon doesn't mind at all. Simon never minds.

"Because I didn't want to die." he says simply, letting Ralph continue to hug him and cry into his chest. An onslaught of tears slide down the curve of his ribcage, though between the wetness of the sea and the wetness of Ralph's eyes Simon cannot tell which is which...

"Oh, Simon..." Ralph sobs. "You have no idea..."

* * *

Jack Merridew sits alone atop his throne of sand, staring down at a couple of scuttling hermit crabs before crushing the very first one he can catch with the heel of his foot.

_'This is Ralph.' _he thinks, watching the insides ooze out of the shining, shattered shell.

He is in the process of cleaning his foot when Roger strides casually into the hut. The little lines of sunlight filtering through the leaves above them does nothing to illuminate the boy's face, instead making him darker and more menacing than he already is.

_'Looks like war-paint.' _Jack thinks offhandedly.

"Roger." he nods.

"Jack."

"So, what do you want?" he asks, precise and to the point.

Roger stares straight ahead, cocking his head to one side as he speaks.

"I want to kill Ralph." he says bluntly, and at this Jack nearly falls off of his 'throne.'

"_What?"_

"Is that not the point of this whole hunt?" Roger asks monotonously.

Jack twitches.

"Yes..." he says slowly. "...but I still don't understand why _you_ would want to kill him personally."

_'He's mine.' _Jack adds silently, glaring poison-tipped daggers at Roger.

A curtain of silence falls over them as an unspoken challenge lingered in air...

_'You haven't kill anyone yet.' _Jack hears, though Roger's lips have not moved in the least. _ 'The others killed Simon together, and I've killed Piggy. You've...only killed pigs.'_

Jack clenches his fists.

_'...and you couldn't even do that at first!'_

"No." he grits. "When we catch that little wanker, he's _mine. _You hear me?"

Roger's eyes remain blank.

"_You hear me?" _Jack snarls, punching his fist through the flimsy wall of sticks behind him.

The brooding boy replies to this with but a slight, barely-there sneer to his tone.

"Of course." he says. "Of course,_ chief._ I should've known that you would've wanted Ralph all to yourself."

Jack stiffens.

"_What?"_

"Tell me about it when you're done with him." Roger says simply, as he slips out of the darkness into the sunshine outside.

Though no one can see it, Jack looks as if he's been slapped across the face.

Outside, the littleuns stop their activities and flinch as they hear a fearsome bellow erupt from the inside of Jack's hut. They turn, only to see it being destroyed violently from the inside-out: twig by twig and leaf by leaf...

* * *

"Honest to God-"

"-Maurice! We're so sorry-"

"-we didn't mean to be-"

"-so freaking useless!" Sam finishes, fat tears of frustration threatening to fall down his face.

Eric is glassy-eyed as well, regularly rubbing his nose into Sam's shoulder as the twins continue to babble on almost incoherently.

"We'll take care of you—"

"-we promise! We won't-"

"-let you end up-"

"-like Simon-"

"_-we swear!"_

Maurice winces at their increasing volume, stopping the two boys before their already misplaced guilt could snowball into outright hysteria.

"Guys, it's alright. You did a good job." he says gently, using his one good arm to point to the makeshift bandages across his torso.

It seems like the wrong thing to do. Samneric stare at him –at the ruby-red blood seeping to the top layer of cloth- then at each other before bursting into loud, simultaneously distraught wails.

"Guys-!"

Maurice feels a headache coming on from the noise. He bluntly tells them this and they sniffle, making pitiful and half-hearted attempts to pull themselves together before excusing themselves from the hut altogether.

"Wait!" he calls.

"Yes, M-Maurice?" Eric blubbers.

Maurice swallows.

"Since you guys are still allowed to go outside...please, please go check on Henry for me. It's the only thing that I really want you to do..."

* * *

They walk down the beach together, muttering to themselves and to each other and glancing worriedly every now and then back to Maurice's hut.

"We haven't seen him in a while, have we?"

Sam shakes his head.

"No, we haven't. When was the last time that we saw him?"

"I don't know. We said goodnight to him yesterday, didn't we?"

"Yes...but we left until morning, remember?"

Eric gulps.

"Do you think...do you think something's happened while we were gone?"

Sam blinks tiredly, not wanting to answer; because Eric already knows the answer.

"We don't know for sure." Eric whispers.

"But...he wasn't there when we brought Maurice back into camp." Sam says quietly. "And you know that Henry would have been the first one there if it was Maurice. They're-"

"-they're best friends, I know."

"Like us."

Eric looks away.

"Still...we have to give it a shot, for Maurice."

"Then let's go." says Sam, his eyes downcast.

* * *

"So, that's what happened..." says Simon, smiling serenely as they sit together on the blue-and-white shoreline . "It's impressive, though, how you managed to travel this far with a twisted ankle..."

Ralph grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head with one arm as a pale pink flush slowly overcomes his boyish features.

"Thanks! I didn't even feel it- kind of. I mean, it still hurt, but I didn't want to think about it at the time or else..."

"...or else you couldn't take down Jack?"

Ralph blinks in surprise, though he knows he shouldn't.

Simon knows everything; as he always has.

"Yeah." he says finally, gazing up at the endless array of passing clouds. "Like I told you, Jack was pretty much terrorizing everyone in camp while you were gone..."

"I don't think so." Simon muses, suppressing a small giggle at the bewildered look on Ralph's face as he snaps back to attention.

"Did you not hear what I just told you...?" he asks incredulously. "That guy is demon!"

"Only to you." Simon replies easily. "Before I 'died' everyone was getting along pretty well, though there _was_ a lot of tension. However, it was basically you and Piggy versus the entire camp at first..."

Ralph stops, his right eye twitching uncontrollably in a rather comical way as Simon laughs outright.

"Whose side are you on?" Ralph asks exasperatedly, tugging on the wayward tuffs of blond hair on his head.

"Relax! This is only what_ I _think..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, but-"

"- Ralph."

He stares at Simon in impatiently, annoyed at having been interrupted so soon. Simon continues.

"You've only noticed his flaws because you had Piggy, but also because you were always on the receiving end." Simon says seriously. "From the start, you two have been almost obsessively fixated on each other- though Jack moreso than you..."

"_'Obsessively?'" _ Ralph mutters. "That's a big stretch to say..."

"But it's true! I've always wondered why that was. I mean, used to think that it was because you so vigorously opposed him every step of the way, but if he's still chasing after you _now_ then..."

He trails off, hesitant to continue.

"...then what?" Ralph asks suspiciously. "Simon, tell me!"

Simon shakes his head.

"I don't know." he frowns.

Ralph snorts, crossing his arms.

"It's not that you don't know; it's that you're not sure."

They gaze at each other then; Ralph at Simon and Simon at Ralph, awkward for the first time in their short acquaintance.

"You're right." he says quietly. "I'm _not _sure. But..."

Simon shifts a bit before standing up.

"...when I am, I promise, I'll be sure to tell you."

Ralph squints in annoyance.

"Now you've made me wonder. Now I won't stop thinking about it!"

"Then maybe you'll figure it out before I do?"

"_Simon!" _ he whines, his voice taking on a whiny inflection. "C'mon!"

The delicately thin adolescent begins making his way into the water. Ralph scrambles to his feet to follow, yelping as his ankle gives a venomous throb.

"So they're all still scared of the beast." Simon says aloud, his gentle voice unusually strong with conviction.

"Trying to switch topics." mutters Ralph. "You really are no fun."

And then he stumbles, nearly tripping over his own two feet before Simon catches his arm and steadies him, flashing that mystique little smile once more. Ralph flushes, embarrassed at his close fall and straightens himself up before coughing awkwardly.

"But don't you want to know why I am?" Simon asks gently, and at this Ralph stops and puts a thoughtful finger to his chin.

"Well..." he says hesitantly. "I suppose. But I'll have you know, Simon, that the real beast was Jack all along."

Simon smiles sadly, pointing up at the sky.

_'It's ironic,_' he thinks.

They are standing here, between the places of both his two greatest hopes and his two greatest fears; the sea and the sky.

They are standing here and there is nothing there.

They are standing here and they are oh-so-close.

They are standing here and they are so far-far-away...

"No, Ralph. The real beast...was a dead parachutist."

And nothing seems real anymore.

_'Not that it ever did in the first place.'_

(end chapter three)

* * *

**A/N: **Umm...so my writing instincts told me to end it here.

I'm really sorry this was such a short and boring chapter, but I promise that the next one will be longer! I know I've been neglecting Jack's part in this too, so of course there will be more of him soon as well. The things that have been hinted and why Simon is alive will also be specified later on, don't worry.

So thanks for sticking with me, and don't forget to hit the review button below! :)


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